


Catharsis

by Sigma



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, PWP, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigma/pseuds/Sigma
Summary: Sometimes Alex just desperately needs to get out of his own head. Thankfully, Yassen Gregorovich has a solution.....
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Comments: 14
Kudos: 82





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valaks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaks/gifts).



> _A short present for Valak - based on a challenge she put to the server - you know which one I mean! Enjoy!_

Alex is already panting, hands grasping the bedhead so hard that his knuckles are white. He knows that if he lets go Yassen will stop and that's the last thing he wants.

He whines as Yassen takes the jewel at the base of the plug in his hole and twists it sharply so the toy rotates, and brushes his prostate so hard that he almost jack knives on the bed.

He's so hard, he's been so hard for so long now that he's almost crying, all the blood in his brain seeming to have migrated to his cock. But he cant come yet, both the cock ring and the threat of Yassen's disapproval preventing him, so he pants frantically and tries to think of anything else apart from how much he needs to come.

He can feel Yassen's hands stroking down his flanks, cupping his arse now, softly massaging the flesh, and he tenses, just a little, the knot in his stomach dropping in anticipation and dread at what he guessed was coming next. Was it possible to want something, and not want it at the same time? 3 months ago Alex would have said no. But that was before he had experienced being spanked by Yassen Gregorovich.

Now, he wasn't so sure

Yassen's hands are slowing now, kneading deep into his skin, just on the verge of painful, and Alex groans quietly, head down, cock throbbing almost in the same beat as the press of the older man's hands. 

Yassen shifts behind him, and he can hear the clink of a belt buckle opening, and the soft metallic sussuration of the other man's zipper being pulled down and he clenches automatically around the plug in his arse in anticipation.

He starts as the sudden coolness of leather is draped across his bare back, then relaxes and tenses for a completely different reason as he recognises what it is, Yassen's belt. They've never done that before, never used a belt on him, and he's not sure about that at all. It might be too much, too much to handle and he swallows around a suddenly dry throat.

But Yassen notices the change in his body language and takes pity on him, dropping the belt to one side and leaning forward to press a kiss to his bare back and then another, until he reaches the crack of Alex's arse. "Good boy. Not the belt then, I think. Not today. " He cups Alex's arse again, starting up that maddening kneading again and Alex shifts and whimpers. He can't take much more of this. The anticipation of the pain is worse than the actual pain itself.

"What do you want, Alex?" Yassen murmurs silkily. "What do you need?" Alex squirms. He hates that Yassen makes him ask for it, every single time after the first time. But the rule is iron clad. If he can't ask for what he wants, Yassen won't give it to him. "I need," Yassen's hand twists his skin particularly hard and he grunts. "Please, _please_ can you spank me."

The grip on his skin relaxes and Yassen hums in satisfaction and presses an affectionate kiss on to his lower back again. "Of course, Alex. Whatever you need. Now, how many strokes do we think," Yassen muses. "You've been a good boy recently, but I think I need to give you even more incentive to behave." The Russian pats Alex's arse almost absently, like a man with a beloved pet, as he considers. "Sixteen I think, one for each year of your life, that would be appropriate, don't you agree?" Alex swallows noisily. That's 6 more than they've ever done before. He can tell though that Yassen is waiting for an answer and that unless he gives him one, he's not getting what he wants tonight.

"Yes," he breathes out, and Yassen makes a pleased noise. 

"Good boy." Then there is a hand on his lower back to steady him, and he instinctively arches under the pressure, which pushes his hips out and suddenly there is a sharp starburst of sensation on the meaty part of his right arse cheek, just above where it meets the top of his thigh. He jerks, and bites his lip so he doesn't cry out. Even though he knew it was coming, the noise and the sharp crack of it, caught him by surprise. Yassen's not going in too hard at first, just warming him up, so the pain is comparatively mild and diffuse, just a hot warmth spreading out from where Yassen's palm contacted his flesh. But before his mind can process it Yassen repeats the slap on the left, and his arse starts to burn.

The other man pulls back for a second to regard his handiwork, the clear mark of his hand on the pale skin of the teenager outlined in red. He hums, pleased. "I love seeing the sign of my hands on your skin, Alex. You mark so beautifully." Some part of Alex preens under the praise, but the rest of him is just dreading and anticipating what is going to come next.

He's right. The next strike comes out of nowhere, and it's twice as hard, as Yassen considers that Alex has been warmed up enough. It's hard enough that it jolts Alex in place, a hot explosion of sensation, rocking him forward on his knees and his breath seizes in his lungs and his cock throbs and all he can think about is the sting /heat of it. But Yassen isn't stopping now, and then there is another blow, and another, and the pain is multiplying now, increasingly sharp, and increasingly hard, each strike carefully calibrated to land exactly on top of the one before, so the nerve endings have no time to recover, and all Alex can think about, and all he can do is just exist in the pain. 

He's whimpering now, begging Yassen to stop, to not stop, a broken tumble of pleas and whines escaping his mouth as he judders and shakes from the force and fire of the blows, each one wiping his mind of all thought, of every thing that's been worrying him, and everything that's put up on him outside of this room and this moment. His existence has narrowed down to this bed, and this cleansing, awful, incredible, _burning_ pain, and the man administrating it. "Count for me, Alex," Yassen grits out behind him, and the small part of Alex's brain that can still think feels smug that Alex is not the only one affected by this moment. He tries to, tries to remember where they are, but he can't, he's lost track, and he moans his confusion and disorientation and somehow Yassen understands. "We are at ten," the other confirms, sounding a little breathless, and Alex nods. 

There is another crack of hand on abused flesh, and Alex whines, tears starting to pool in his eyes now at the ever escalating pain, but he never even thinks to use his safeword or even to ask Yassen to slow down. " _Eleven._ " "Good Boy." Then another strike, further down, so it overlaps with untouched flesh and Alex whimpers and pants, as this fire spreads.

" _Twelve"_ , he chokes out. He's starting to cry in earnest now, the tears dropping down his face, his head down between his arms, hands still gripping the headboard desperately. But he's still, so so hard, so incredibly sensitive, and when the next strike comes crashing down he sobs. " _Thirteen_ ", as the pain in it seems to somehow transmute directly into pleasure and his cock. There's the whistle of air again, and the crack against his overly sensitised skin, and that mind altering bloom of pain, pain that negates everything, all he can think about is the pain, and he wants it, and he hates it and he bleats in shock that shouldn't be shock after fourteen strikes but somehow still is. " _Fourteen,_ " he manages to whimper, and Yassen grunts behind him. "You're doing so well, Alex."

Then before he can gasp a response there is another crack and this time he chokes on a sob, crying so hard that his shoulders are heaving, the release of it, the heady submission of giving in to Yassen in this way. " _Fifteen,_ " he gasps out. "Nearly done, well done. Just one more." He feels the shift of weight behind him, his skin so sensitive even the air currents feel like abrasions and then there is the whistle of air again, but this time Yassen angles it so that the very edge of the blow catches the jewel of the plug in his arse, and he _screams_ , a hoarse inchoate noise and spasms in place, his cock seeming to swell even harder, although that can't be possible. But Yassen gives him no time to recover, and before he can process what's happening the plug has been yanked out him, making him moan in protest, so empty, and then there is the blunt hard pressure of Yassen's cock head against his hole and then suddenly Yassen is _there_ , filling up all of the empty spaces, snapping his hips so hard against Alex's burning, burning arse that it's like being struck again. Alex yells, and squirms in place, but Yassen has a steel grip on his hips, and Alex can do nothing but bear up under the onslaught. His brain has gone off line, nothing existing but the heat and pain from his arse, all nerve endings firing randomly and the hard brutal raw thrusts of Yassen inside him. All he can do is _take_ it.

Yassen is thrusting so hard and so deep it's like Alex can feel it in his throat, in his lungs, in every part of him and he loves it, _loves it_ when Yassen just _uses_ him like this, like he's meant to be used, as an enthusiastic vehicle for Yassen's pleasure. He lets his mind drift away completely, to that calm white place, where all he is is his body and how he is being used. He vaguely recognises when Yassen's hand comes round to strip off the cock ring, but he's too far gone to actually comprehend it. All he knows is that the pressure in his cock is actually worse, and that he's been reduced down to nothing more than animal instinct, to pant and moan and beg and plead under the ruthless pounding negation of Yassen's thrusts. Then the Russian shifts in place, and the angle changes and he's hitting Alex right there, every stroke nailing his prostate, over and over again, an endless symphony of pleasure mixing maddeningly with the white hot pain from the abused nerve endings of his arse as Yassen's hips snap against it savagely. Then Yassen's voice is snarling in his ear, somehow still clear to him despite where his brain has vacated his skull, and a strong calloused hand is wrapped tight around his tender, swollen over sensitive cock. "Come for me, Alex. Come for me _now!_ " He can't do anything else, can't help but _obey_ , can't think and his entire body spasms in Yassen's firm grip as his cock pulses, and pulses and he comes harder than he can ever remember coming, white streams shooting across the rumpled bed linens, his brain white fire, his whole body lifting in a perfect dizzying combination of pleasure and pain as he goes offline, feeling distantly as he does so the growling rasp of the Russian in his ear as with one final brutal thrust Yassen gives up his self control and comes deep inside him.

They collapse down on to the bed together, Yassen shifting his weight at the last moment and pulling Alex with him so that they end up on their sides, Alex is firmly spooned against the older man's body, Yassen's arms wrapping tightly around his emotionally overwrought frame, as Alex shakes, face buried in the side of the teenager's neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin and murmuring soft words of praise and affection into Alex's skin as he shakes and cries and expels the last of the emotions and stress that the spanking had allowed him to release. After a few minutes his shoulders stop shaking and he takes a few deep, heaving breaths, getting himself back under control.

Yassen shifts behind him, pulling back just a little so that his softened cock can slip out of the other man's hole, no longer letting his hips press against the abused skin of the younger man's arse, and Alex whimpers softly, still incredibly sensitive and a little overwhelmed. Yassen snugs his arms around his boy's shoulders even more tightly and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Okay?” His voice is so soft that Alex can hardly hear it, but Alex nods, shakily at first, and then more definitely.

“Yeah. Just _fuck_ , that was intense.”

He can feel from Yassen's stillness behind him that the older man is still being very careful with him. “Too much?” the Russian enquires gently.

Alex frowns, and takes a moment to really think about the question. His arse is burning, and his arsehole is aching, and he thinks that he will be walking a little gingerly tomorrow. And he can already tell that sitting is going to be an experience for a few days to come. 

But apart from that he feels....he actually feels pretty good, he realises, like he's been put through a washing machine and come out with a lot of the shit he was feeling and failing to deal with washed away. He still has issues outside in the real world he has to deal with, but now he feels that he _can_ deal with them, rather than how he felt before, which was like he was constantly on the edge of colossally fucking up. The intensity of the experience has done what it was meant to do, what he desperately needed for it to do, taken him out of his own head long enough, given him something to focus on that wasn't his own cycle of guilt and self-loathing, and then washed him clean in the overwhelming endorphin rush of _pain/pleasure/release_.

He's clearly taken a little too long to answer for Yassen's arms are a little rigid around him, and his contemplation is broken by the nudge of the Russian's nose against the skin of his neck.

“Alex?” He prods.

Alex coughs slightly, clearing his dry throat. “No, it was _good_. It was what I needed,” he confirms. He twists his head and shoulders in place, careful not to move the rest of his aching body, and looks Yassen in the face as much as he can from this awkward angle.

“Thank you,” he breathes out quietly. Yassen's mouth quirks in a small half smile and he presses a soft kiss across Alex's mouth. 

“You are very welcome, sweetheart.” Alex flushes at the pet name, trying not to show how warm it makes him feel, his heart swollen with complicated feelings for the other man that he finds almost impossible to articulate. Thankfully Yassen knows him very well by this point, and he just smirks a little and presses another gentle but possessive kiss against Alex's so very willing lips. Then he releases his arms and pulls back, pushing on Alex's shoulder so that the teenager sprawls on his belly on the bed. 

“Hey!” The younger man grouses, sound slightly muffled by the mattress and the pillows. The Russian chuckles and musses his partner's hair affectionately.

“ _Shush_. Lie still. I'm going to go and fetch something to get you cleaned up, and stop the worse of the ache you'll be suffering from tomorrow.”

Alex mutters into the pillow grumpily, already missing the Russian's comforting embrace, but acquiescences, dozing drowsily now the adrenaline is fading from his system, but kept from proper slumber by the burn on his arse. Thankfully Yassen doesn't take long and only a few minutes later he is back with some damp wash cloths, a towel to put over the wet spot in the bed where Alex has come so that they didn't have to sleep it and some fairly heavy duty pain numbing and antiseptic cream. As usual he's as thorough with the clean up, as with the execution, and within a matter of minutes, Alex has been carefully cleaned, while he flops like a rag doll, totally not in the mood to move, and then Yassen is gently rubbing the cooling gel into the abused skin of his boy's arse. Alex twitches a little initially as the pain blooms softly when the gel is first applied, but then sighs and relaxes as the other man carefully covers every bit of skin he previously abused and the pain fades into a back ground hum, no longer distracting enough to prevent him sleeping. He is even able to twitch when Yassen's clever fingers swoop down his crack and ever so gently massage a little of the cream around and even a little into his swollen hole. 

“Eurgh,” he moans, squirming on the bed just a bit, fatigue and the very edges of desire fighting against each other distractingly. Above him Yassen chuckles, a low rich sound of replete amusement, like a tiger purring, and the hairs on the back of Alex's neck shiver in pleasure at being the cause of that sound.

“No more tonight, sweetheart. The spirit may be willing, but,” he cups a gentle hand over Alex's right arse cheek and presses down just a little, listening to the faint whimper the boy produces in response with amusement. “I think the flesh is done for the night. Wouldn't you agree?”

After a moment Alex nods sleepily against the pillow, and Yassen smiles to himself. This boy. All that reckless courage, and so stupidly brave with his heart. He's not blind to how Alex feels about him, nor how deep it runs, even though he knows the teenager finds it difficult to admit to. Thankfully, Yassen is a perceptive man, and also not one to ever waste a precious gift once given. He'll keep Alex well, and safe, even if it means nights like tonight, when the path to pleasure for both of them becomes more intense than it can be for many. 

He caps the lotion, and wipes his hands on a hand towel before he runs an affectionate hand through that shaggy mop of blond strands again. “You'll need more of this tomorrow,” he notes.

Alex grunts some indecipherable noise of agreement, already more than half asleep from the trials of the evening, the emotional catharsis, and Yassen's careful after care ministrations. Yassen's smile, unseen, threatens to overtake his mouth, and he shakes his head ruefully before he shifts to the other side of the bed, sliding in sideways, so he's on his back beside Alex's semi-conscious form. He reaches out and gently maneuvers the younger man so that his head is resting on Yassen's chest, hair tickling the older's man jaw, and wraps an arm around the teenager's shoulders, prompting a sleepy, querying murmur.

Yassen presses a kiss to his lover's forehead. “Shh, go to sleep Alex. Tomorrow is another day.” And atypically, Alex Rider is obedient, and sleeps, for once, without dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> _Please comment/review if you liked it!_


End file.
